


you say please don't ever change (but you don't like me the way i am)

by casualmarches



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, First Meetings, Homophobic Language, M/M, Pre-Relationship, and pete is very bi, but that's okay because his girlfriend doesn't like him either, he doesn't like his girlfriend, patrick is a hot server, patrick is a sweetheart: a novel by me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 11:12:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casualmarches/pseuds/casualmarches
Summary: Pete doesn't actually know how he started dating Jennifer. Nor does he know why. Especially because she's the one of the school's most popular, hot, and envied cheerleaders, and Pete is - well, Pete, the self-proclaimed pothead who paints his nails black in the bathrooms and occasionally shows up to class wearing a skirt.Then he meets Patrick, which is nice, but there's just a small problem - he's their server, when they're on a date.





	you say please don't ever change (but you don't like me the way i am)

**Author's Note:**

> this was brought to you by a picture i saw of patrick during the soul punk era where he looked really fucking good (when does he not) and someone tagged it with 'hot waiter boy' and my mind went from there
> 
> i relate to pete in this because i, too, see patrick and immediately reconsider my relationships

Pete doesn't actually know how he started dating Jennifer. Nor does he know why. Especially because she's the one of the school's most popular, hot, and envied cheerleaders, and Pete is - well, Pete, the self-proclaimed pothead who paints his nails black in the bathrooms and occasionally shows up to class wearing a skirt.  
  
He thinks it might have been when he got absolutely wasted at one of Brendon's parties and ended up making out with her in front of everybody. He doesn't remember it, but Brendon and fifty other people swear that he did.  
  
What Jennifer sees in him, Pete has no idea. Thinking about it, it's probably a way to make her look better, like _look at the charity work I'm doing, going out with Pete Wentz_. Either way, he doesn't care all that much. It boosts him up a little on the social ladder, which isn't that important to him, but it does get assholes to stop pushing him into lockers, so he takes it.  
  
The only thing he really cares about is just how high-maintenance Jennifer fucking is.  
  
Like, okay, he gets that girls are on a completely different level from him. He is never going to find out what goes on in their brains or why they act the way they do. He has accepted that. But why in the everliving _fuck_ do they have to want the most expensive dates known to man? Pete is broke. He can barely afford an ice cream cone, never mind the five star restaurant on the edge of town that costs more than his entire life.  
  
But apparently it's so romantic and so amazing and Pete would rather throw up.  
  
"You really should have dressed better," she says when he picks her up at eight on Saturday night, wrinkling her nose at his outfit. She looks flawless as usual, makeup done to the last detail.  
  
"What's wrong with this?" Pete asks, looking down. He specifically chose Converse that weren't too dirty, picked out his best pair of ripped skinny jeans, and even put on a jacket over a faded Misfits shirt. That's the best it's going to get. Every single one of his so-called friends made fun of him for hours and probably still are now that he's gone, so really, he's the one making the sacrifices here.  
  
She sighs. "Let's just get going."  
  
It's a twenty minute drive and infinitely more awkward than Pete was expecting, so he reaches into the backseat at a red light and picks out a random CD, pushing it into the slot. It's Green Day, thank God.  
  
"This is trash," Jennifer comments, and Pete is immediately reminded of why he doesn't like this relationship.  
  
"Uh, no?" He says incredulously. "It's Green Day. Green Day is amazing."  
  
"I don't like any of the music you put on," she says at that, leaning back. She waves a hand dismissively. "It's all.. emo. It doesn't even make sense."  
  
Pete is very, very tempted to say that none of her pop shit makes sense either, and that every time she sings along with Katy Perry or Taylor Swift he wants to drown himself, but he is a good person and already made the dinner reservations, so he grits his teeth and says nothing for the remainder of the ride.  
  
When they get there, Pete turns off the ignition and stuffs the keys in his pocket, getting out of the car. Looking around, compared to the rest of the parking lot, no one will probably want to steal it, but he's not taking chances.  
  
"You're not even going to open the door for me?" Jennifer calls from the passenger seat, and Pete groans internally. He's not about being a gentleman who has to assist his helpless girlfriend at every turn. It feels weird. And it's too much effort.  
  
He drags his feet over and opens the door, gesturing her out a little too sarcastically, but she doesn't seem to notice.  
  
Soon enough, they're situated at their table and Pete's slowly getting why Jennifer said he should have cleaned up a little more. People are wearing suits and dresses that could quite literally come from runaways, and they all look at Pete like he's mud on the bottom of their shoe. He's not too self-conscious, though. He likes making rich people uncomfortable. It's a great way to spend his time.  
  
He abruptly forgets all of that when their waiter comes over.  
  
"Good evening, I'm Patrick and I'll be your server tonight." He's - okay, what the fuck, who let someone be that attractive? This guy has bleach blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and he's wearing a black button-up with a white shirt underneath it, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Pete is so caught up staring that he doesn't even realize that he's talking.  
  
Jennifer's glare is enough to make him snap back to reality. "W-what?"  
  
"What would you like to drink tonight?" Patrick says again, pleasantly. He looks their age, which is really not helping. It's also not helping that Patrick also seems to be staring at Pete a little longer than necessary.  
  
"Um, Coke?" He's probably supposed to say some kind of fancy drink he's never heard the name of before, but you can't go wrong with Coke.  
  
Patrick writes that down and smiles at them. Even his smile is perfect, what the hell? It's all blinding white and pretty. "I'll be back with your drinks. You can order when you're ready." And he's off, doing whatever it is that he does.  
  
Pete feels a little starstruck.  
  
"What is wrong with you?" Jennifer demands, and Pete doesn't say anything in response to that. He's pretty sure she wouldn't take kindly to _I think our server was sent specifically to remind me of how bisexual I am, please help._  
  
He shrugs off his jacket, mindlessly dropping it over his chair, and he taps his fingers against his jeans. Jennifer is now going on about some drama with her friends, something about what's-her-face and the new boy she's stringing along. Pete couldn't care less, but he puts on his best interested face while he secretly goes on the look out for Patrick. He eventually spots him, making his way back to them with their drinks.  
  
"You're not listening to me!" Jennifer snaps, and Pete jumps about a mile into the air.  
  
"I was!" He says quickly. Nothing's more terrifying than an angry date in public.  
  
"So what was I saying?"  
  
"Um - " Praise every single God out there, Patrick's reached their table. He puts their cups down and smiles again.  
  
"Here you guys go." He sends a glance at Pete. "I like your shirt."  
  
For a disorienting second, Pete forgets what a shirt is. Then he realizes what he's wearing, and looks at the Misfits logo. "Oh, uh, thanks."  
  
"I told him to wear something nicer, but you know," Jennifer interrupts, obviously put off. "He doesn't listen."  
  
Patrick frowns at that. He looks between the two of them, at Pete's uncomfortable expression, and his forehead creases. "Are you two ready to order?"  
  
Pete hasn't even looked at the menu. He gives it a once over and starts, "I guess, um - ”  
  
"I'll take the steak," Jennifer says, and Pete winces. His wallet hates him right now, but he might as well take the high road. “What she’s having.”

When Patrick leaves, Jennifer almost immediately goes to attack. “You’ve been distracted this entire time, Pete.”

“No, I haven’t?” Fuck, is it that noticeable?

“Don’t lie to me. I’m not stupid.” Well, Pete has several counter arguments for that. “You’re not going to pay attention to your own girlfriend on a date? What, are you gay now or something?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. He kept hoping that despite all of what’s wrong with her, she wouldn’t be some homophobic jackass. His temper’s getting the better of him, and he hisses, “Yes, because I don’t want to put up with your shit, it means I’m automatically gay. I’m not, but thanks. Bisexuality exists.”

He realizes too late what he just said. Not the outing himself part, but the saying he doesn’t want to put up with her shit. He thinks he might have just dug his grave. It’s not good, either, that they’re attracting a scene. People are craning their necks, trying to see what’s going on.

Jennifer looks pissed off. “Right, so you’re bi.” Pete didn’t know that much venom could be in one voice, but then she says possibly the most annoying sentence ever created. “Choose one or the other.”

Pete is dumbfounded. “You did not just say that. Holy shit, you did _not_ just say that.”

“Well, it’s true - “

“You know what, you’re right. I will choose. To end this, because you obviously don’t care about me.”

Before he knows it, water is being thrown in his face. It’s ice cold and he moves back in surprise, trying to wipe it from his eyes. Jennifer storms out without another word, and he’s left wondering what the hell just happened.

-

As fancy as this restaurant is, the bathrooms are not that great. It’s small and cramped and smells oddly of bleach. There was probably a murder or something.

Pete studies himself in the mirror. His hair, spiky black, is impossibly messy from the amount of times he’s ran his hand through it in frustration, and his eyes look tired. He hadn’t realized how much Jennifer was taking from him, energy wise.

The door creaks open, and Pete doesn’t turn around. But he sees who it is from the reflection, and his breath catches.

“Hey?” Patrick says tentatively, like he’s talking to a small animal. “I’m, uh, I saw what happened. I’m sorry.”

Pete huffs out a laugh. “It’s okay. Thank you.” After a minute, he says, “We weren’t really even working out anyway. She’s, like, popular, and I’m not. And then she decided to be homophobic because how dare I not be straight, so, you know, the trash took out itself.”

Patrick’s face is hard to read. Pete deepens his voice dramatically and says, “Want to know a secret?”

“Uh, sure?”

“I didn’t like her in the first place. She was a bitch.”

Patrick giggles, and Pete grins at him. He says, “Guess I’m back to being nobody at school again. I mean, I still was, but you know.”

It’s meant as a joke, but Patrick’s smile drops and he’s already shaking his head. “I know we met an hour ago, but I can tell you’re not nobody,” He says, standing next to Pete at the sink. “Besides, you seem really cool.”

Shit, is he blushing? No, it’s probably just how hot it is in here. Yeah. That’s it. “Thanks.”

Patrick seems to be working up the courage to say something. He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again.

“CouldIgetyournumber?” He says in one big rush. Pete blinks.

“What?”

“Could.. could I get your number? You, I don’t know, um, yeah?” Patrick stutters and looks down at his hands.

When Pete walked into this place, he was not expecting to break up with his girlfriend and then be asked out in the same night. But who is he to turn down someone this cute?

“I was hoping you’d ask.”


End file.
